The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott: With a Memoir of the Author, 第 7 卷Little, Brown, 1866 |
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常見字詞
Anonymous arms Avenel ballad beneath blood bold bonny bosom BOTHWELL CASTLE brave breeze bright brow bugle call'd castle cavern CHAP County Guy dance dark dead dear death deed deep dread drink dwell earth Edinburgh Edinburgh Annual fair Farewell fate father fear frae glance gleam grace hand hath hear heard heart HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN heaven hooded crow hour King Kirkwall Lady land Lerwick light live look Lord loud maid maiden merry mirth morn mortal MOTTOES ne'er night NORNA Norsemen o'er Old Play poor Louise Prince proud round Saint Cloud Scotland Scott Serendib shalt sing sleep song sorrow soul sound Staffa storm Sultaun sword tale tell Tewin thee There's thine thou hast tower twas Tybalt vengeance verse voice wake waves wild wild dance wind XVII XXIII youth
熱門章節
第 185 頁 - Proud Maisie is in the wood, Walking so early; Sweet Robin sits on the bush, Singing so rarely. '"Tell me, thou bonny bird. When shall I marry me?' 'When six braw gentlemen Kirkward shall carry ye.' '"Who makes the bridal bed, Birdie, say truly?' — 'The grey-headed sexton, That delves the grave duly. "The glow-worm o'er grave and stone Shall light thee steady; The owl from the steeple sing, 'Welcome, proud lady.
第 297 頁 - AH ! County Guy, the hour is nigh, The sun has left the lea, The orange-flower perfumes the bower, The breeze is on the sea. The lark, his lay who trill'd all day, Sits hush'd his partner nigh; Breeze, bird, and flower confess the hour, But where is County Guy?
第 215 頁 - Within this* awful volume lies The mystery of mysteries : Happiest they of human race, To whom their God has given grace To read, to fear, to hope, to pray, To lift the latch, to force the way ; And better had they ne'er been born, Who read to doubt, or read to scorn.
第 208 頁 - Come from the hills where the hirsels are grazing, Come from the glen of the buck and the roe; Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing, Come with the buckler, the lance and the bow. Trumpets are sounding, War-steeds are bounding, Stand to your arms then, and march in good order, England shall many a day Tell of the bloody fray, When the Blue Bonnets came over the Border!
第 7 頁 - The violet in her greenwood bower, Where birchen boughs with hazels mingle, May boast itself the fairest flower In glen or copse or forest dingle. " Though fair her gems of azure hue Beneath the dewdrop's weight reclining, I've seen an eye of lovelier blue More sweet through watery lustre shining. " The summer sun that dew shall dry. Ere yet the sun be past its morrow, Nor longer in my false love's eye Remained the tear of parting sorrow ! " In turning over a volume of MS.
第 140 頁 - Hie away, hie away, Over bank and over brae, Where the copsewood is the greenest, Where the fountains glisten sheenest, Where the lady fern grows strongest, Where the morning dew lies longest, Where the black-cock sweetest sips it, Where the fairy latest trips it ; Hie to haunts right seldom seen, Lovely, lonesome, cool and green, Over bank and over brae, Hie away, hie away. "Do the verses he sings...
第 152 頁 - Twist ye, twine ye ! even so, Mingle shades of joy and woe, Hope, and fear, and peace, and strife, In the thread of human life. While the mystic twist is spinning, And the infant's life beginning, Dimly seen through twilight bending, Lo, what varied shapes attending ! Passions wild, and follies vain, Pleasures soon exchanged for pain ; Doubt, and jealousy, and fear, In the magic dance appear. Now they wax, and now they dwindle., Whirling with the whirling spindle. Twist ye, twine ye 1 even so, Mingle...
第 91 頁 - And ne'er but once, my son, he says, Was yon sad cavern trod, In persecution's iron days, When the land was left by God From Bewlie bog, with slaughter red, A wanderer hither drew, And oft he stopt and turned his head.
第 157 頁 - The herring loves the merry moonlight, The mackerel loves the wind, But the oyster loves the dredging sang, For they come of a gentle kind.
第 86 頁 - O, WHO rides by night thro' the woodland so wild ? It is the fond father embracing his child; And close the boy nestles within his loved arm, To hold himself fast, and to keep himself warm. 'O father, see yonder! see yonder!' he says ; ' My boy, upon what dost thou fearfully gaze?' ' O, 'tis the Erl-King with his crown and his shroud.' ' No, my son, it is but a dark wreath of the cloud.